#might like empty out my wardrobe tomorrow and sell some more clothes :/

[ringeddplover]

i wish i had more money, i could dress even cooler

[spitpr1ncess]

BRUISED BODIES CHAPTER 3 LEVI ACKERMAN X READER

                                                   (not my image)

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Gentle rays of sun push through the curtains that protect you from the outside world, they fall like precious feathers across your sleepy face, you rouse from your restful slumber and bring yourself to open the curtains fully, letting mother nature embrace you as you appreciate another day alive. You have an alarm clock but you find the natural light is much more kind to you. You take a deep inhale and breathe life into your lungs, you close your eyes and scrunch them as tight as they will go as you exhale, letting any tension and anxieties about the day evaporate.

You set about making your bed, the beautiful ivory sheets are pulled taught and your duck down pillows plumped, you fold your nightdress and set it down on the chair next to your window. A few years ago, Boss had bought you a record player for your 18th birthday, and it was crisp mornings like this that called for some soft, classical music. You place a record down gently and lift the stylus, as it makes contact your room is filled with ethereal sounds, you hum and dance around slowly, opening your heavy wooden wardrobe to pick something out that will adequately satiate Boss’s hunger.

You hold up a few lingerie sets in front of your nimble body and stare into the mirror, you’ve lost a significant amount of weight the last few months, you notice your chest has all but ceased to exist at this point, Boss will not be happy about that. You decide on a soft cream set, a corset that pinches your waist in and pushes your chest up to its maximum capacity, with beautiful satin panties that you’ve altered yourself. With your weight loss, a lot of the clothes you wear leave you swimming in them, you stitched darts into the front, pulling them in and creating a feminine silhouette that accentuates your barely-there curves.  You pull a pastel pink silk gown over your arms and set about applying a little make up. Pinching your cheeks and lips to draw the blood to them, you give yourself a natural blush. You pull a dark brown pencil through your brows, add white to the waterline of your eye and brush a few strokes of mascara over your lashes, finishing with a little clear gloss on your lips. Last night you’d painted your finger and toenails a soft cream, you add some pearl earrings and the necklace that Boss had given you when he first took you on.

You give yourself the once over in the mirror, making sure to not look too close, you figure that you don’t look as exhausted as you usually do, and for all intents and purposes, are ready. You wait. Its ten minutes to ten, when Boss is due, you sit patiently on the edge of your bed, your heart hammering in your chest, you’d stopped the music a few minutes prior, you know Boss likes silence, and you want to appease him. You roll your pearl earring between your index finger and your thumb anxiously, you hear the gate buzz and Jools answer. It’s a few moments before you hear his heavy footing stalks toward your door, you glare at the golden door knob, it turns, painstakingly slow. He knows you’re apprehensive and he likes to remind you of that. The door finally pushes open, assaulting the empty space between it.

You stare at him, he looks you over. He looks as grimy as ever, he is a short and stout man, with snow white hair and a beard to match, the golden tooth cap that covers one of his front teeth blinds you as he smiles from ear to ear, if you weren’t under so much pressure to please him, you might’ve thrown up at the sight of him.

“There’s my girl, as innocent as ever,” he looks straight through you before turning, closing and ensuring to lock the door. “don’t keep me waiting, stand up.” The instructions are clear as day, you stand on your weak legs, focusing everything you have on not letting Boss see how anxious you are. He steps toward you and reaches out; he draws a line from your bottom lip to your right nipple with his thumb. Your corset protects you from feeling his perverted touch, suddenly you are over the moon with your choice of undergarment. He picks at the hem of your pretty pink gown, he lifts it and you raise your arms instinctively, it’s soon removed and discarded on the floor behind him like a rag.

“I thought you might like this one, Sir.” Your breathing hitches as you await his verdict.

“You are right, little girl.” You feign a smile and give him your best doe-eyed look. He sighs, tired, turned on or frustrated you cannot tell, you wait anxiously before taking your next breath.

“I’m going to inspect you now, I have to make sure you are worth keeping, little Olive.” He moves to stand behind you and begins to unlace your corset. He easily removes it and places it carelessly on the bed. He steps so close you can feel him breathing down your neck, he looks down and observes you, with his hands reaching out he cups a breast in each hand. He places his thumbs and index fingers over your nipples and rolls them roughly, his cold, hard fingers fighting to get a physical reaction, you are not attracted to Boss in the slightest so it is hard to pretend you want him to continue, but if you close your eyes and think hard enough, you can just about picture somebody else, it’s what makes this whole ordeal that little bit more manageable.

“You’ve lost weight.” He observes, you panic.

“I have been working such long days, Sir, it was not on purpose, I promise.” You are apprehensive for what he will say next, to your surprise, he isn’t angered, in fact, he apologises.

“I have obviously not been supplying enough food, I will do better, and you shall have less work.” he continues his silent abuse on your tiny body, pulling your soft, brown hair over your left shoulder and continuing to roll your right nipple. He leans in and inhales your scent, you feel him let out a low growl, you can’t help the physical shudder that courses through you, you worry that you will start convulsing at any second, but Boss must have taken your shuddering as a sign to continue, something in him changes as he kicks your legs apart with his foot. Standing there in just those soft, silk panties, you are vulnerable, alone, completely at his mercy. You suck back a sob and picture all the times you have been at a mans mercy, you pray to a God that you do not even believe in that this will end soon, you are exhausted, completely shattered, absolutely broken. You just want peace.

He reaches his left hand into the front of your panties and feels your softness, “You are a good girl, keeping all tidy for me. I bet you even oiled yourself up this morning in anticipation. You did, didn’t you?” You can sense the dirty excitement in his voice, you nod, meekly in response, you have learnt very quickly that you need to sell whatever sick fantasy Boss is having to keep living comfortably, how you must remain his little bitch, to get your own way, eventually. You close your eyes and let go of any shred of dignity you were still grasping onto, you begin to grind into his hand, silently begging for him to give you something, to make him feel like you need him, he lets out low, perverted, guttural moan.

“You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” It’s working.

“Please Sir. Touch me, please.” A silent tear breaks loose and wets your cheek, his erection tents and you feel it pressing against the arch of your back, you dare to reach a hand behind to palm him, he moans, without warning, you feel a finger roughly enter you, Boss layers his fingers with expensive and unneeded gold signet rings and although you hate to admit it, the cool of the jewellery feels fucking good. His alien finger curls upwards as your breathing hitches, feeling the golden rings rub against your hole.

“You are as tight as the day I took you as a young girl.”, you cringe at him bringing up your broken childhood as another silent tear falls, you try to ignore his perverted comment as you continue to palm his erection from behind you, he abruptly pulls his finger out as you are violently bent over your bed, he tears your pretty panties down to your knees.

“Put your hands above your head, and don’t move them, I’m going to inspect your holes now.” You feel him as he gapes you wide open, running a finger from your sensitive clit, to your pussy, he circles it, slipping a finger in to the first knuckle, you sense the second about to plunge into you when there is a strong knock at the door.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INTERRUPT ME.” You are frightened by how angered the man looming above you sounds. Afamiliar cold voice answers back. “Sir, it really cannot wait. Its E.S.” silence befalls your little room as the tension rises, you’re face down with your hands above your head, a finger in your cunt and your ass spread wide. You’re thankful there is a door separating you from the voice outside.

“Do not move, little girl.” You are frightened by the anger behind his words, you remain where you are, Boss stands up straight and strides to the door opening it wide.

“I will go, you are to take over here, make sure she is worth keeping, I’ll expect extensive feedback on my desk by eight tomorrow.” And with that, you hear his footsteps fade as he paces toward to exit.

-

You suddenly realise that someone is standing at your door and heat flushes to your ears, you jump up snatching what little dignity you could salvage as you speedily pull your panties back up, you protect your chest with your arms. Glaring at you, you meet the same pair of eyes you did yesterday afternoon, you are mortified, you try to say anything but nothing comes out and you stand there with your mouth wide open.

“You’ll catch flies like that, whore.” Levi retorts, this is the last thing you wanted to happen right now, or ever really. You barely have time to think before you instinctively bite back; “You’ll catch a slap if you keep staring at me like that,” you immediately regret saying anything, “what I mea…” you are interrupted as he strides toward you at a sickening pace, roughly grabbing your delicate throat, you whimper in response and a small smirk forms at the corners of your mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” Levi practically spits, this piques your interest.

“Are you going to inspect me, Mr Ackerman?” You should’ve closed your stupid mouth, but something inside of you wants to antagonise him, needs to antagonise him.

“If I had a choice, I’d not step within fifty metres of you.” He doesn’t hesitate for a second and you almost feel bad, but your mouth works faster than your brain.

“But you don’t have a choice, so are you going to?” He releases his tight grip of your neck and spins you so effortlessly you may as well have weighed the same as a stuffed toy, the next thing you know, you are face down in your mattress. With his palm forcing you down, he spits in your face, “you deserve nothing more than a beating followed by a rough fucking, I’ll teach you a few things about respect.” He’s angry, and you’re finally excited, you asked for something new, something different, and here it was, pinning you down and spitting in your face. Your heart swells.

You bait him, your next mistake.

“You think you’ll be able to teach me about respect? I apologise Mr Ackerman, but you are the man who just spat in my face. At least aim for my mouth next tim…” you are cut off as grabs a pillow and forces it over your face.

“I’m sick of the noise coming from you and I can’t stand the sight of you.” Levi stands up straight, letting the pillow go so it sits over your face as he removes his jacket, you hear him fold it and place it tidily on your chair, this humours you and you let out a muffled giggle. Levi pauses to look at you before he chooses to ignore you, giggling and with a pillow over your face, ass up in the air, he almost grabs it before continuing with his before task. He pulls a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and kneels, leaning over you and removes the pillow.

“Open.” His command is simple and you immediately follow, like a little puppy, his jaw tenses as he stuffs the handkerchief in your mouth.

“I do not like you, or even respect you, but I am not a monster, so, as I inspect you, if anything makes you uncomfortable, you are to raise your hand and I will stop. Understand?” You nod meekly and hide the blush rushing to your cheeks, never in your life has someone shown you such kindness, much less someone who so say hated you.

“You’ll use your hands now and spread yourself so I can inspect you now.” He sure wasn’t being unbearable, but he sure wasn’t living up to the beating and rough fucking he had promised you, his energy had changed, he was almost soft, or maybe you’d imagined that. Levi pulls a tight-fitting leather glove out of his pocket and slips his hand into it. He steps up behind you and grasps your little legs, and like you are nothing more than a doll, lifts you up onto the mattress with the rest of your top half.

“Keep your head down but stay on your knees,” he runs his hand over your soft rump and presses the arch of your back down, “well trained pets arch their back; it gives a better view to their owners.” The way he calls you pet makes you quiver with anticipation and you feel the slick building between your thighs. Levi must have sensed it because he pulls them down over your ass, painstakingly slow, you’re sure he’s doing it do you’ll feel them pull away from the slick forming at your embarrassingly eager cunt. Letting them fall to where your knees are planted he moves his face dangerously close to your slick covered hole, you feel his warmth in places you have never had touched before. You feel his finger circle your clit, being gently with his touch, sending shivers up your spine as a result. You dare to lean back into his touch. Men never touch you this way, really its only ever you who has circled your swollen bud with your nimble fingers, chasing your own orgasm, a real orgasm, not like the ones you orchestrate for the male gaze.

You wait for Levi to say something but he doesn’t, instead, he increases the pressure to the circles he is tracing, causing your breath to catch in your throat, you let out the tiniest mewl praying that he doesn’t hear it, he pulls his hand away.

“You are not supposed to be enjoying this, whore.” You let out a defeated sigh. Levi doesn’t move for a few minutes; you blush as you feel his eyes boring into your slick covered holes, you cannot see, but he is contemplative, he is thinking, wondering. You pray that he will say something else. Once again, he does not, he simply circles your swollen lips and probes his leather clad middle finger in. You swear you hear him let out a strained breath, but you’re not sure, your head is spinning and men don’t really take pleasure in stuff like this, do they?

He pushes in again, the furthest knuckle meeting your lips, he curls his finger upwards and rubs it against your walls, you know better than to make a sound, slowly, he pulls his finger out and you cringe at your wetness, your body must cringe physically as well because Levi picks up on it.

“Do you not like the sounds? To me, it is one of the best parts. I like to hear myself playing with the holes I fuck. It is a reminder of how depraved you are, how wet you get being manhandled.” With that he forces both his middle and ring finger into you, he curls up and rubs against your walls again, pulling his fingers back out, thrusting them back inside and repeating it over. You mewl again, but this time he does not stop.

“Listen to yourself, pet.” He continues his internal assault, though usually where you hate the assault left by men, you were enjoying his, you were hungry for it.

“Can you feel it building? Inside of your tiny body? Chase the end for me, I want you to.” Levi leans in and spits on where his fingers continue to scoop out of you like he was deseeding a melon, you squeeze your eyes shut and let the fire build in the pit of your stomach, you cry louder, your breathing speeding up, this pleasing him, Levi spanks you hard, his hands are heavy, and it hurts like hell, you feel your body about to reach its peak, you’re not sure how long you can hold off.

“I’m so… I’m so close… Please.” you try to cry out, but it comes as pathetic muffles through the handkerchief Levi had shoved inside your mouth, with that, he stops dead. In what feels like a nano second, you are flipped onto your back, held to the bed with Levi grasping your neck again. He straddles you, you cannot breathe he fists your throat so tightly you fear you may pass out, but you do not signal for him to stop, not once

His eyes stare into yours, they are full of lust; causing you to wonder if he secretly was enjoying this, that he may even like you, he shakes his head as if he heard your thought, you try your luck and dare to lift your hand and palm through his jet-black hair.

“Do not touch me.” He warns as he pins your hand above your head, his eyes turn back to the cold glare you’ve become quite acquainted with, he stands up and pulls you with the hand that was pinned against the bed.

You are thrown onto the cold wooden floor and your knees echo a cracking sound as they make contact, it stings, like an injured animal you try to crawl away but Levi is hot on your trail, he steps on your leg, just above your ankle, you are pinned, you try hard to wriggle out, but he is not weak. His shoe is freezing cold on your skin, the pain is manageable as he is holding back a little but you can feel a bruise forming already.

He violently pulls his belt undone and yanks his trousers down releasing his sizeable cock from the restraints of his boxers, “You’re making this harder for yourself, just stop wriggling.” You comply, feeling tired now, your little body starting to feel the abuse given to you over the last half hour, Levi’s eyes show a little pity as he flips you back onto your front, you knowingly kneel and push your holes on display for him as he removes his leather glove, with his trousers crumpled around his knees, he lines up behind you, he smacks your bare ass a few more times before collecting your slick on his fingers then coating his straining hardness with it before he palms it himself a few times. He presses the very tip against your hot lips before sheathing himself inside you completely.

Levi is much bigger than the men you usually take and you cry out and cover your own mouth with your hand, he reaches and pulls both of your arms tight behind you, grasping them both with one of his stern hands and the other continues to assault your ass cheeks with hard smacks.

“Don’t silence yourself, I want you to serve me as you would serve any other man, I want to hear you cry out, I want to hear you beg for me, I want to hear you come for me. Do you understand, pet?” You choose to stay silent, instead spitting out the handkerchief.

“I understand that you want me to do my job, I’m not stupid y’know.” A stupid, snide remark from you as he chokes you again, his fingers pressing into your windpipe. You’re sure he will kill you if he presses any harder. Levi slaps you hard, once, twice, thrice, you feel blood pool in your mouth as you realise he has cut your lip, you don’t hesitate as you spit in his face, the blood painting an ugly picture.

He licks his lips and contemplates his next move, he bucks his hips into you hard, you cry out, in pain or in pleasure, you are not sure but he continues to thrust in and out of you, reaching so deep inside you that you feel like breaking, yet you do not raise your hand. He releases the grasp on your arms, and they fall forward to support you as you are fucked, rough.

Levi reaches a hand around your legs and feels for your clit. He begins to rub slow circles again, and you feel it radiate deep inside your little body, he is unrelenting on his mission to make you come.

“Don’t hold back. I can feel you’re getting close.”, he reaches his other hand and pinches your left nipple between his fingers, he twists it hard and you mewl.

“Please don’t stop. Please. Please I want to come.” You’re barely audible as you practically whisper through your moans, the pleasure from Levi is unbearable, as t reaches its peak you see stars, you’ve never come like this before, like he truly cares about your pleasure, your body trembles and you come under his control, you can’t help but hold your breath as he releases his fingers from their current roles, and they grab your hips and fuck you back into him.

Continuing to come undone as Levi chases his own finish he grunts as he unloads ropes of come deep inside you, it’s warm and you welcome the feeling of being filled, suddenly, you are empty and his cock is gone, you feel his seed dripping out of you, your eyes grow heavy and you feel your chest heaving, the last thing you see is Levi scooping you up into his arms, you swear you saw a look of softness across his face, a look of hurt.

-

When you awaken, you are tucked into bed, a large t-shirt swallowing your sore body, you sit up and your head spins, it’s is dark outside and there is a glass of water and a small note on your bedside table, you sip from the glass and apprehensively thumb the note.

“I’m sorry” it reads. Levi. You cringe as you remember begging him for your orgasm. You’re pulled from your thoughts as your door quietly opens and Jools enters.

“Are you okay Olive?” he sounds genuinely concerned, “you’re covered in bruises… did he hurt you?” He looks away, clearly uncomfortable, again, you cringe as you recall the experience.

“I am okay Jools, I promise. How did I get to bed?” You expect Jools to say that he came and rescued you, but he doesn’t, instead he hesitates before beginning, “Levi… He, well, he bathed you, he applied creams, washed your hair, and he put you into bed. He hung around for a few hours, y’know. In case you awoke. Then he asked for some paper, wrote you a note and left.” You smile at that knowledge, regardless of what the note says, you feel that he wants to see you again.

“What did the note say?” Jools questions.

“Nothing important, just an apology, its weird”.

“Oh. Okay. If he really hurt you, you are to tell me. It is not usual for Levi to… Engage with women like he did with you. His behaviour was strange I don’t trust him”.

You look at Jools, he reaches out to touch your face, it aches, you remember the blows to your face, you are probably bruised there, too. “I am fine Jools, I was just doing my job, I am better for it, considering I didn’t have to engage with Boss!” You feign a smile, though Jools can see its fake, he trusts you enough to talk to him when you are ready.

“You had better go to bed then, Levi paid off your afternoon caller, by the way, I’m not sure about him, so be careful, please.” He turns and leaves, the door closes and you lay your heavy head back on your pillows, a curious shadow lurks by your window, but you miss it, falling into a deep slumber.

Just some peeping Tom, probably.

[ittookthelightforever]

Tell Me Why - Chapter 1

Hi

so I had an idea for a new chapter fic, fun! The title comes from the Neil Young song, the one Alex played on the piano once and it was beautiful. 

Love, Lina.

Synopsis: Charlotte and Alex have been best friends from childhood, as the years went by and Alex became THE Alex Turner, he helped his best friend set up the book and record store of her dreams, The Secret Door, in London. Now, it’s 2018 and Alex arrives to The Secret Door on day, in the middle of the Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino tour running away from relationship problems, again.

Source

Charlotte slams her hand on her buzzing phone in an attempt to turn her annoying alarm off, she loved having her own business but waking up early after staying up until 4am reading the latest novel by her favourite author was grueling. Despite her tiredness Charlie gets up and sets about her day, turning on the kettle on her way to the bathroom where she tries to tame her wavy hair, settling on a quick brush and a red ribbon loosely tied into a bow to hold back half of her auburn hair.

After the standard hygiene, she puts on some light makeup of concealer, brown eyeliner and copious layers of mascara. Next, she rummages through her wardrobe for her denim dungarees and a striped white and red long sleeved t-shirt, sitting down on her bed to put on her red high-tops. Satisfied with her look, Charlotte goes into her tiny kitchen and makes some tea and toast.

With a piece of bread held between her teeth and the warm mug in hand she descends into the her store, Secret Door, setting the mug on the counter and fixing a few bits around the store before going out back the receive the shipment she’d woken up extra early for. “ ‘ey Sahid, ‘ow’s it going?” The older man smiles broadly, putting the last box on the pile, “Great, the mrs asks when are you coming for dinner? She says she has the perfect man to introduce you!” Charlie shakes her head laughing.

“Yerh too kind! I’ll text ‘er to figure out a date.” She begins to roll the cart piled with boxes into the store when she bumps into a man, “Niall, I told yeh we ‘ad a shipment coming today and I needed yeh earleh!” The blond nods, wringing his hands, “I know, the tube was a mess, I’m sorry.” Charlie shakes her head, “Help Sahid with the rest of the boxes.” Soon they have everything in and start unpacking.

Charlotte is brought out of her organizing by a knock on the store’s glass door, which she tries to ignore at first because it’s an hour till the store opens, but the person on the other side was quite insistent. She gets up and opens the door without even lifting the shade, “The store is… Alex!” Charlie is shocked to find her best friend on the sidewalk, “Why didn’t yeh call or text to tell me yeh were ‘ere?” She pulls him into a hug which he gladly accepts, pressing his face to the crook of her neck and holding her tight for a few moments.

“Forgot me phone.” He whispers against her skin and Charlie pulls away, taking a quick look at his face before ushering him in and locking the door again, “Yeh fucker, when did yeh arrive in London?” She hits him in the arm and he pushes her, “Taylor wanted to come, before I went back to the tour. But she is drivin’ meh mad, she finks I’m cheatin’ on ‘er.”

Charlotte didn’t exactly get along with Alex’s current girlfriend, from Taylor being jealous of their friendship to her being outright mean to Charlotte she really couldn’t see what her best friend saw in her besides her good looks. “I can’t believe it, the cheek!” Alex follows her to where she’d been doing a display for new releases, “Can I stay wiv yeh tonight? I just need a break.” Charlie stops with a record in hand, looking at Alex and remembering the first time she’d been to this building.

8 years ago 

“Alex, where are yeh taking meh? I ‘ave a shift in a couple hours and I’d like to get some rest before I ‘ave to sell meh soul again.” He smiles, parking the mini on a street in Shoreditch, “Trust meh, this is better than rest.” Alex takes her hand after they exit the car and pulls her up the street, running just like he did when they are kids, only stopping when they reach a red brick two-story store building in between a bakery and a posh indie clothing shop, that Charlie loved but couldn’t afford.

Alex takes out a set of keys, opening the door, “Ta-da!” Charlie looks around the empty space not understanding what was happening, “Alex, what’s this?” He smiles, strutting around the room, “Yerh store! Isn’t it the perfect place? It even ‘as a little garden area where yeh can set up a little reading space! And the best part ever, it ‘as a flat upstairs, so yeh wouldn’t ‘ave to worry wiv sharing a flat or nowt.” Charlie couldn’t comprehend what he was saying, “Yeh are crazy, Al, I-I could never in me wildest dreams afford this place!”

Ever since she was a little girl Charlotte had hid away behind her books while her best friend, Alex, had introduced a soundtrack of indie tunes to her life and slowly a dream grew within her to someday own her little book and records store, where she would be surrounded by her favourite things and would be able to share her passion with people.

However, as the years went by that dream seemed further and further from reality as she graduated from uni with an English degree and no job prospects in little ol’ Sheff, which didn’t improve much once she made the move to London where she soon found herself sharing a flat with two other girls on the outskirts of the city and working soul-sucking jobs in retail.

“I know Charleh, that’s why I am ‘ere to ‘elp yeh.” Charlie shakes her head vehemently, “I can’t accept this, Alex. Yeh are my best friend, I can’t lose yeh if this goes south.” He holds her by the shoulders, looking Charlotte in the eye, “I am doing this because yeh deserve it so much. No more shitty gigs to get by. This is what yeh always dreamed of, babeh.” She looks at him through tear-clogged eyes, “I don’t want to lose yeh, Alex.” He smiles, wiping her tears, “Let me do this, it’s not like I’m giving yeh the moneh. I’m investing in a vereh important business!” Charlotte can’t help but laugh at her silly friend, “Plus, yeh couldn’t lose me if yeh tried.

Present

“Oh babeh, of course yeh can stay always!” She hugs him, rubbing his back the way Penny did when either of them got to the Turner’s looking upset, “Fanks, Char. Yeh are my saviour.” Charlie chuckles, pulling away, “Ta, ta… We’ll talk more later, but just so yeh know hiding from yerh girlfriend is not normal.” He laughs ironically and ruffles her hair, which prompts Charlie to push him away, grumbling about him messing with her hair and something about shaving his head while he slept. “Niall, we’ve companeh!”

Despite all her employees having met Alex at least a couple of times, Niall was too infatuated with the rock n’roll side of Alex and tended to do get all flustered in front of Charlie’s best friend, “A-Alex, hey… How’s tour? Looove Tranquility Base!” Alex laughs, reaching out a hand which Niall readly takes, dropping the book he’d been holding, and shakes it a bit too hard, “Hi Niall, ‘ow are yeh?” The blond nods and stutters an okay, “Okay Niall, enough fangirling. Can yeh pick tha’ up please?” Niall blushes furiously and gets back to work.

“Aneh good stuff come in?” Charlie goes back to fix the record display with a hand from Alex, “Goodness yes, Josh Tillman’s record just came in and I’d gotten an advanced copy. It’s perfect, Al. Remember when we saw him at Glasto last year?” Alex nods, smiling at his friend’s enthusiasm, he always feels recharged when hanging out with Charlotte and he was craving some homeliness after a few weeks on tour, “ Course, ‘ow could I forget, yeh were twirling around.” She elbows him lightly, “Shush, I may have been trippin’ a bit and yeh know it.”

The day goes on as any other when you have a very famous rockstar in your store, Jasmine who works the little tea cart in the reading garden arrives soon after Alex and the mister picks a few records from Charlie’s personal collection to play on the turntable set up back there, taking a book and spending the whole morning reading and drinking tea. Charlotte sits on a the check-out counter, doing some business stuff, like paying bills and ordering, while checking-out customers while Niall works the floor.

Every now and then someone will notice Alex sitting on his chair in the corner, his because he literally picked the cushioned chair and put it there when they furnished the store, and ask for an autograph or a photo, but it doesn’t get out of hand as it had in the past. At closing time Charlie finally puts her work away, “Hey Niall, yeh can go mate. Fanks for covering for Annie today.” The blond smiles through his tiredness, “Anything for you, love. Now, I’m pretty sure our favourite rockstar is asleep in the garden, go get him, sister!” She laughs, shaking her head, no matter how many times she told him Alex and her were only friends, Niall always insisted she should go for it, whatever it was.

Outside, Alex is really asleep on the chair, the book he’s been reading long discarded. He looked so young asleep, resembling more her old childhood friend than the renowned musician he grew up to be, Charlotte kneels next to him, gently stroking his brow, “Hey Golden boy… Fanceh sum dinner?” He blinks a couple of times before focusing on Charlie’s face and smiling, “ ‘ey there… Hmm, are yeh cooking for meh?” She smiles, the cheeky boy, “I might, if yeh get yehr butt out that chair and upstairs alreadeh.” Alex stretches, getting up from the chair and cracking his back, “Fuck meh, I’m old.” Charlotte shakes her head quickly putting the things he’d brought outside in a pile, “C’mon old man, I’ll fix this mess yeh made tomorrow.”

In her apartment, Charlie pulls out the ingredients for a quick pasta pomodoro, “Can I take a shower while yeh cook?” She nods while focusing on chopping some tomatoes, “Course, yeh know where yeh can find yerh stuff.” Ever since she had moved here Alex had been staying with her when he couldn’t bother going to his own apartment, which was 6 blocks aways, or when he was fighting with whomever he was sharing said apartment with, so he’d started keeping a few clothing items here which Charlotte wore every now and then.

Freshly scrubbed and wearing a pair of sweatpants and a very old and holey tour t-shirt, Alex helped Charlie dish out the pasta while she grabbed a bottle of wine and they settled on her small living room, “Okay Al, tell me. What made yeh run away from yehr girlfriend this time?” Charlie was more than used to helping Alex through his romantic debacles through the years, which only seemed to get more and more complicated, “I dunno, Char. It’s been weird lateleh, after the new album. Some fings shifted.”

Charlie knew the key here was giving Alex enough time to fully form his thoughts, so she waited patiently, “She wants to... ‘ave kids. And do the whole family fing, but I dunno if I’m readeh. I was so comfortable wiv Scoot and ‘er back ‘ome, and now everyfing is babehs and look at Forrest, isn’t he a cuteh, can yeh imagine ours? And look at Cam and Alyssa, can yeh imagine our wedding? And no, I can’t! I’m good, tha’ knows?” She nodded along to Alex’s outburst.

This was’t the first time he and a girlfriend had had differences in how they wanted to continue with their relationship and Charlotte had been through that with her own partners, and everytime she and Alex had talked it out, no matter where in the world Alex was. Charlotte was his best friend and, in a way that was different from the boys, even Matt and Miles, she got exactly what he was feeling and she never believed his bullshit, always sticking to the hard truths. “Alex, yeh can hear yerhself reight? It looks like the two of yeh are in completleh different relationships.” He sighs, polishing off his glass, “I kno’, but I love ‘er. I do.”

With that added ‘I do’ Charlie raises an eyebrow to him, “Who do yeh want to reassure? Me or yerhself?” She leaves her half finished bowl of past on the coffee table and fills up their glasses, “Al, yeh can’t be happeh if yerh here wiv me on one of the few days yeh’ve got to be wiv ‘er during tour. I know yeh, yeh won’t give into ‘er pressures to get married or ‘ave a kid and that spoiled little princess of yerhs is gonna blow.” He narrows his eyes at the spoiled princess comment, “Wot? Did I say anyfing tha’ wasn’t true?” She gives him a cheshire cat smile and Alex can’t help but laugh.

“I kno’, I kno’. But it’s been three years, tha’ knows? I thought she was the one.” Charlotte hugs him sideways, rubbing his back, “I kno’, you’ll find the one, Alex. I kno’ it in me heart.” They finish the wine and Alex helps Charlie with the dishes, “Yeh barely touched yerh food, Char.” She brushes his comment off, “I ate enough, Al. Plus I ‘ad to concentrate on yerh love problems.” He dries off his hands and holds her by the shoulders, “Are yeh okay?” Charlotte rolls her eyes and nods, “Promise?” She looks him dead in the eyes, “Promise.”

They go to bed, used to sharing the same bed since kids when they slept over at each others houses, and when Charlotte wakes up the next morning there is a note from Alex saying he’d gone to his apartment to see Taylor, so she just goes on with her day at the store, fixing things up, worrying about business and dealing with a whole lot of teenagers hoping to meet their favourite front man after getting ahold that Alex was in town and had been to her store the day before.

“Goodnight Charlie!” She waves Annie off and starts closing the till when she hears the door to the store open, “We’re closed!” Damn, she thinks, should’ve locked the door after Annie left, but when she looks up she finds Alex drenched, it had been raining all day, in front of her, “I broke up wiv ‘er.”

[theartofbeinganerd]

Alright, what I’ve got lined up for tonight is a bit different. Recently, I finished posting one of my multi-chapter fics, a hand to hold (take me home), which means that I’ve got an opening in my writing schedule for another one. However, I’ve narrowed it down to two options, and I figured I’d let you all decide which one I go with! I’ll give a brief summary of each, and there are snippets below the cut of both of them, to help make the decision easier. Whichever one is chosen, I’ll likely begin posting it sometime soon, so keep an eye out! Thanks!

Option One:  When a greedy politician rolls out his new policy that’ll leave a small-town middle school with a lack of enough funds to stay open after the current school year, the residents of the town think the situation to be hopeless. The same, however, cannot be said for the staff of Margaret Carter Middle School, who will fight with everything they have to stay open – or rather, fundraise with everything they have. This is (obviously) a teachers AU, which is centered around the relationships between both Fitzsimmons and Mackelena, though I’d say it probably focuses more heavily on FS because hi, it’s me. There’s humor and romance and all of the team, with as many fundraising gimmicks as I can fit in the fic.

Option Two: Which doesn’t have a summary yet, but basically it’s a rewrite of my first ever AoS fic, Hardest Kept Promises (which I look back on now and...Yikes), one that I’ve wanted to do a rewrite of for some time. It’s a Season 2 AU, where Clint and Natasha join the team at the Playground following the Season 1 finale, and Natasha befriends Jemma and helps her to realize that she has feelings for Fitz in return during the nine days that he’s in a coma. This one is Angst City and closely follows the events of Season 2, told from the POVs of Jemma and Natasha, as Jemma navigates Fitz’s injury and their distance while fully aware of her feelings for him, often counseled by closet romantic Natasha Romanoff. ((Also, it ignores the....more romantic events of AoU, and Clintasha is featured as an established relationship))

(Ao3)

-

Teachers AU

“Hey, Fitz, can I – is that more chocolate?”

Guiltily, Fitz paused in his frenzied effort to hide a small pile of chocolate bars in the top desk of his drawer. “Oh, hey Simmons…um…something you needed?”

Heaving an exasperated sigh and shaking her head, Jemma crossed her arms over her chest and stepped further into the classroom. Once she was standing in front of Fitz’s desk, she peered disappointedly down at him, the same look that she used on her students when they tried to form some kind of excuse as to why they didn’t have their homework. “Oh Fitz. It’s not a fundraiser if you’re buying up all of the product.”

“I only have so much willpower!” Fitz cried defensively. “How am I supposed to say no to candy bars?”

Jemma pressed her lips together to hide her amused smile as she shook her head again. “Maybe we should have gone with Daisy’s calendar idea – at least that way you wouldn’t be in danger of solely funding us.”

Fitz pulled a horrified face, and it caused Jemma to finally break, laughter slipping past her lips and revealing her ruse. “Very funny, Simmons. But I’m not joking when I say that no one would buy a calendar of ‘sexy teachers’ if I was in there with my shirt off.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Jemma replied with a placating pat to his shoulder, though she figured that the laughter still lingering in her voice made the sentiment less believable, from the telling scowl that Fitz threw in her direction.

“Anyway,” he started pointedly, “what was it that you wanted before?”

For a moment, Jemma had forgotten that she’d had a purpose in dropping by Fitz’s classroom, but at his not-so-subtle reminder, she said, “Oh! Yes, I was wondering if I could borrow a couple of your microscopes. I’m starting the cell unit tomorrow and I don’t have enough for the class, even putting them in pairs.”

“Sure thing,” he replied easily, getting up from his desk and crossing the classroom to the back counter, where a small amount of microscopes were set up in a row. “How many do you need?” he called over his shoulder.

“Two should do it, thank you,” Jemma answered a bit distractedly, taking the chance to check his desk drawer. Once it had been pulled all the way out, her eyebrows rose high on her forehead as she caught sight of the chocolate bars practically lining it. “Ugh Fitz!”

“What?!” When she raised her head to glare at him, she noticed him balancing the two requested microscopes in his arms, struggling a bit under the weight of them, and his cheeks slowly growing redder and redder as he figured out what she’d seen. “Hey, I’ve never claimed to have an ounce of self-control when it comes to chocolate.” Clearly trying to save face, he added, “’Sides, it’s not exactly surprising. You know this happens every year.”

With a sigh, Jemma perched lightly on the edge of Fitz’s desk and reminded him sadly, “This isn’t every other year though, Fitz. We’re not raising money for field trips or extra lab equipment, not without that tax money.”

Fitz grimaced, partly at her words, but also partly, it appeared, due to his continued juggling of the microscopes. Rolling her eyes fondly, Jemma stood from his desk and (only after trying to take one of the microscopes from Fitz and receiving a childish shake of the head in response) wordlessly gestured for him to follow her on the short walk from his classroom in the seventh grade hallway to hers in the eighth. As he trailed behind her, he grumbled, “If it wasn’t for that bastard Governor Ward and his filthy, lying bastard face… I still have no bloody clue how he even got elected.”

“Some people don’t care to look past the clearly false promises,” Jemma sighed, pushing open the door to her classroom and stepping back to allow Fitz to enter. “You can put them over there,” she told him, pointing toward a relatively empty table. Watching absently as Fitz did as she asked, Jemma felt a rush of sadness at the thought that this time next year, she might not be in this classroom setting up slides of plant cells or discussing recent scientific discoveries over tea with Fitz in the afternoons as they put off grading just a little bit longer.

“Hey.” At Fitz’s soft voice beside her, Jemma glanced up in surprise, a small smile flitting involuntarily across her lips when he nudged her shoulder with his. “Ward’s not shutting us down. We’re gonna prove to him that we’re prepared to fight for our school.”

As her smile became more genuine, Jemma’s mind flashed back almost a decade, to when she and Fitz had just been fresh-faced almost-college-graduates, interning at the tiny Margaret Carter Middle School in some tiny little town, entirely unaware that it was where they’d meet the person that would become their best friend in the world. The school meant so much to both of them, and Jemma couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else or with anyone else.

Gently dropping her head to rest on Fitz’s shoulder, she murmured in agreement, “We’ll show him.”

-

Season 2 AU

“Looking for some tips?”

Jemma glanced up from the fact sheet Coulson had had printed up for her, one that she’d been studying meticulously for the past few hours. Glad to give her eyes a rest, she just about managed a smile for Natasha, nodding gratefully. “Anything to help. I’m a rather dreadful liar. I mean, I have been getting better but not…not on this level.” She gestured to the paper that contained what she was now supposed to pass off as her history.

“If Coulson thinks you can do it, then you must have the skill to back it up,” Natasha stated plainly, perching on a stool across the island from her. Nervously, Jemma threw a glance at the doorway to the commissary, always worried that Fitz would be the next to enter, that he’d somehow catch wind of her plans to go undercover, that he’d be…be even angrier with her.

She knew he was never going to understand why she was doing what she was, but no matter how much it would hurt, she had to go through with it – to give him time and space to heal, to give him a fighting chance, to protect him.

“I just saw him heading to the lab,” Natasha said suddenly, automatically bringing Jemma’s gaze back to her knowing face. “He won’t be stopping by anytime soon.”

Jemma colored at being read so easily, anxiously curling the corners of the paper in front of her with her fingertips. “Oh.”

Mercifully, Natasha dropped the subject (it was one of the things Jemma appreciated about the legendary agent the most – she never beat around the bush, and she never pressed if she didn’t need to; it made her surprisingly easy to talk to), and instead she said bluntly, “You should cut your hair.”

Taken aback, Jemma absently raised her hand to finger the waves drifting past her shoulders (she hadn’t had the ambition to put in the time it took to straighten it, not since…since they’d arrived at the Playground). “Cut my hair?”

“And change up your wardrobe. Maybe go a bit darker and heavier with your makeup. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that changing your appearance can go quite a ways with adopting a new personality. Almost every time I go undercover, I look like someone new because I am someone new. You have to live your new identity to sell it.”

It made sense, Jemma had to admit, but the very first thought that popped into her head was, when I return, will Fitz even recognize me? But, she shook away the ridiculous fear and reminded herself that it was all for him, to protect him, and she’d do anything to protect him. “Cut my hair, change my clothes, wear heavier makeup; got it. Anything else? Anything that might help an awful liar survive in the lion’s den?” She forced a little laugh at the end, hoping to seem more calm and breezy than she felt.

Natasha didn’t seem fooled. Her piercing eyes studied Jemma carefully for a long, silent moment, and though she didn’t say a word about it, Jemma somehow knew that she’d seen right through her sad attempt, saw through all the walls she’d been attempting to erect around her heart in an effort to protect it – an effort that came far too late.

“Try to keep things as close to the truth as possible,” Natasha advised finally. “They ask if you’re loyal to HYDRA? You reply by saying that you go where science leads you. It’s true, right? They’ll just think that it’s led you from SHIELD to them. They ask why you gave up on SHIELD, why you switched sides? You tell them you’re trying to move on from losing a partner.”

Jemma inhaled sharply at the innocuous words, her grip on her fact sheet tightening so abruptly that it crinkled in her fists. Tears began to fill her eyes, and she hoped distantly that Natasha would think they were the reason she was blinking so rapidly, and not because she was trying to push away the image of Fitz’s last, watery, trembling smile before he pushed that damn button and him lying in that bed hooked up to tubes and an IV and nine days of horror and the way he hadn’t recognized her when his eyes had first opened and the frustration and anger and pain on his face every time he couldn’t find a word or his hands shook directed at her always at her.

“Simmons.” Natasha’s tone was firm, demanding her attention, but somehow also gentle with concern, with sympathy. When Jemma blinked her watery gaze back to Natasha’s face, she went on, “I’m hitting all the nerves because you need to prepared – it’s what they’re going to do. They’re going to try and break you, they’re going to push you to your limits, and they will push on the raw nerves until you cave. And when you cave, when they find out you’re a spy, they will kill you. Or worse.”

She almost asked what could be worse than HYDRA making her and then killing her, but at the last moment she realized that she probably didn’t want to know – she was already likely to have nightly nightmares about what would happen if her cover was blown, ones where she was promptly executed and she never got a chance to tell Fitz that he was more than that too; she didn’t need to add fuel to that fire.

“Good to know,” Jemma said faintly, her weak attempt at a joking smile coming out closer to a grimace than anything else. “I think, out of everything, what I’m most afraid of is how…how he’ll take it. That’s silly, isn’t it?”

“No,” Natasha replied firmly. “I think it’s only natural for you to be concerned about how he’ll take it. Especially given that it’s not exactly an assignment you can share.”

Jemma agreed with Coulson’s decision to label her assignment classified, knew that it made perfect sense logically, but that didn’t make the idea of having to lie to Fitz any easier. They almost never lied to each other, and never without good reasons – life or death reasons – and she couldn’t imagine what doing so now would do to their already damaged relationship. But, not telling him was for his own good; she knew he’d drive himself mad with worry within a week, and she was not what needed his concentration at the moment; that was the whole point of her leaving, after all.

Even if he wasn’t going to have cause to worry about her, though, she knew he was going to (it was in their nature, after all, to worry about each other constantly) and if she could ease some of that burden by keeping her true destination a secret, she would gladly do it. However, once she was gone, she couldn’t protect him from the knowledge of her whereabouts, let alone anything else, nor even make sure he was doing his exercises or taking time to calm down before he destroyed the lab in a fit of anger, and the very thought of was eating away at her.

She knew she had to do something, but no one else knew about her plans to go undercover, so she couldn’t ask this of them without it seeming suspicious. But, Natasha…

Hesitating briefly, Jemma asked softly, “Will you…well, I know the others will look out for Fitz and help him, of course, they care about him too, but he’s so bad about accepting help – he’s so proud, that one, always has been – but perhaps since you and Agent Barton have nothing to compare him to, maybe he’ll accept your friendship and your aid, subtly, of course, overt aid will put him off immediately –”

She cut herself off when Natasha reached out to lay a hand over hers, and she caught and held Jemma’s gaze as she told her sincerely, “I promise, I will try and watch out for Fitz as much as Clint and I can.”

[hsalbum2]

Liability - Chapter Six

The Beginning

august 1, 2014 “Is every night this hectic, or are we all just getting the nerves out for the first show?”

I let myself collapse backwards onto one of the large leather couches in the dressing room as I watched Lou brush a matte finishing powder onto Harry’s nose. He was the last member to come through for hair and makeup before taking the stage, the other four rowdy One Direction boys had come and gone, wandering off into one of the multitude of backstage rooms reserved for us in Toronto’s Rogers Centre. I had never been part of a production this large, and was completely thrown for a loop when we arrived at the baseball stadium at the sheer volume of people involved backstage to make this tour happen. Wardrobe, hair & makeup, catering, security, and the opening band all had their own rather large designated rooms. They would filter in and out as they pleased, coming to Lou and I to fix them up just before taking the stage. I hadn’t realized that I had yet to sit down since arriving at the venue that morning until I had finished styling Niall’s hair and he bounded off down the hallway shouting something about having to finish a footy match Louis had started in another room. Everyone was high energy, zipping around backstage in a rush to complete their respective jobs. It was a bit like a circus, watching how this band operated. Everyone had their own set job and when completed seamlessly the whole act came together. Harry was the last one to come visit Lou and I because he had been on the phone with Gemma, grilling her about a date she had just gotten home from. Even from across the pond he was stepping into the role of protective brother. He whined to Lou and I, voicing his displeasure that Gemma had told us about the date before telling him. Based on Harry and Lou’s incredibly tight bond, I assumed he was usually the last one to come through and spent the remainder of his downtime before the show chatting with his hair dresser confidant. Lux was curled up on the couch next to me, eyes glued to a cartoon playing on an iPad. She seemed entirely unfazed by the chaos unfolding around her, way too focused on what I assumed was a rerun episode of Peppa Pig. Myself, on the other hand, I was completely wiped out. “Every night is this hectic, love.” Lou answered back with a laugh, glancing over at my collapsed body as Harry took a break to tussle his own hair into the style he preferred. “Plus this is far from the first show.” Harry chimed in. Of course. This was Trixie’s first show, but this was old news for everybody else. This tour was already halfway to completion and I was late to the party. Realizing that this world didn’t revolve around me was going to be an adjustment. “You get used to it, though. Makes home seem rather dull and boring without all this chaos.” Lou was back to trying to powder Harry’s nose as he continued to swat her hand away. “I’m sure once the jet lag subsides I’ll be back on my game.” It was nearing show time and Preston was sure to bound into the room to collect Harry for his call to stage any moment now. Other than that I had absolutely no concept of what time it was here or even back in England. Although Harry mentioning chatting to Gemma after a date led me to believe it was way passed my bedtime back home in London. “I think I live in a permanent state of jet lag.” Harry spun around in the chair in front of the vanity Lou and I worked at. “Might just register One Direction as its own timezone at this point because we never get to stay anywhere long enough to really adjust.” “You’re all doing an awful job of selling this tour to me.” I groaned dramatically. Lou let out a hearty laugh as she dismissed Harry and began to tidy up the mess that had been left in the wake of all of the One Direction and 5 Seconds of Summer boys. No two members used the same hair products, each desperate for a style that they could brand as their own. Lou had ran me through what everyone liked, all of them tending to stick to a bit of a routine. But Harry was the outlier. Every night he was feeling something different. Sometimes he’d braid his hair, sometimes he’d let her put product in it to bring out the intensity of his natural curls, and on some nights, like tonight, he insisted on doing his own thing entirely. Tonight’s look screamed Keith Richards, with Harry dressed in a sheer black button up, and a bandana tied in his hair to hold back his wild curls. I could see all of his tattoos through the shirt and it took quite the effort to force my tired eyes away from his chest before he noticed I was staring. “You can’t possibly be hating this already, we haven’t even started yet!” Harry seemed distraught, eyes wide as he gawked at me. Without even having to look at her I could just feel Lou rolling her eyes. “Trix is just being dramatic.” “I’m not dramatic.” I crossed my arms defiantly in front of my chest, but I could practically feel my nose growing three sizes bigger over that fib. “I like the theatrics.” Harry’s eyes were wicked with a sparkle at his simple comment. I was unsure if he was referring to me or the theatrics of making this tour a reality. But suddenly my entire body was acutely aware that his eyes were still glued to me. God, did this boy ever have a power over everyone else in the room. He was humble and yet still just his presence in a room demanded all eyes on him. He was a showstopper. Lou paused her cleaning to lean up against the edge of the vanity for a moment. “I’m sure in a couple days you’ll be feeling alright again, you’ll be healthy and loving every minute of this.” I could just tell by Lou’s tone when she spoke she was in mother mode. That was probably the biggest difference between Lou and Sam. Sam was a little more laid back, but Lou was always watching out for everyone. Her words were more of a statement of fact than a suggestion. I knew she was trying to psych me up about this tour, offering a bit of motivation about moving on from Jacks and making the most of this opportunity. I knew this because it’s all Lou would yap about this morning while I tried to sleep in. She was still on the same kick, but she just wasn’t name dropping my ex-boyfriend in front of Harry. I wasn’t that concerned with this cold. I’m sure that tomorrow morning it would fully break and I’d be a right mess, sneezing and sniffling all over everything. Right now my body just ached and I was constantly tired. It wasn’t ideal, but I knew I could survive and keep working. “You’re still ill?” The way Harry scrunched his nose up in confusion brought on an irresistible urge to smile, so I focused my attention on my iPhone that I had left laying in my lap when I sat down. A few messages from Sam wishing me luck on my first show greeted me on the lock screen, as well as a few notifications for new voicemails from Jacks. I’m sure they were just drunken rants when he finally figured out my apartment had been nearly entirely emptied out of my clothes and belongings. When I failed to respond Lou jumped in for me. “Everyone gets sick on their first tour, Harry.” Her tone was strict, coming quick to my defence. “Jet lag mixed with all the recycled airplane air is a recipe for disaster.” I was far too wrapped up in the notifications on my phone to respond, the sight of Jackson’s name on my phone an instant distraction for me. I had never felt like this about Jackson before. I guess you were supposed to get a feeling of sadness or longing when your ex-boyfriend reached out to you, but today was more of just an annoyance. Travelling across the ocean couldn’t even put enough space between us to give me some breathing room. My patience was wearing thin with all of this. My life back in London was filled with daily harassment, and the constant dread of having to risk an interaction with Jacks. Combined with Sam and Gemma watching over my every move as if I wasn’t capable of handling myself. I loved them dearly, but I just wanted space. I was going to be okay on my own. Granted, their hovering was exactly what had taken me away from London and the life that I loved so much. As much as I was thankful for this experience and was going to make the most of absolutely every second, I was also a homebody at the end of the day. I liked my routine. I liked my flat and my short commute to Bleach every day. And now I didn’t have that because Jacks wouldn’t let me. My life recently felt like I was treading water in a storm and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep my head above water. Jackson was the hurricane. I found it interesting that the thing you once loved, that meant the entire world to you, could so quickly become the same thing that made your life a living hell. “On a serious note, orange juice helps, Trix.” Harry saying my name brought me back down to Earth, clicking the lock screen on my phone after I typed out a quick text to Sam. I promised I’d call her tomorrow when we figured out a time that worked for both Canada and England. I deleted the voicemail notifications. Maybe I’d listen to them later. Maybe I’d just let my inbox fill up until there was no more room for him to leave a message. “Orange juice?” I repeated in an attempt to make it seem as though I had actually been paying attention to the conversation at hand. Harry nodded his head to confirm, “with all the vitamin C, you know?” I remember my mum saying the same thing to me all the time when I was growing up. I’m sure Harry’s mum had insisted the same thing. “I’ll pop over to catering when you’re all on stage and see if I can find some.” “Absolutely not!” I was caught off guard by how violently Harry began to shake his head no. “You need the freshly squeezed stuff, not the sugary processed shit they’ll have there.” As soon as the word was out of his mouth, Lou’s hand made firm contact with the back of Harry’s head. “Watch the language, knobhead.” “Soz, Lou.” Harry mumbled, rubbing at the back of his head. We all glanced over at Lux briefly, but she wasn’t really paying attention to any of us with Peppa Pig still playing on the iPad. “I’ll put some on the rider for tomorrow’s show for ya.” “You really don’t have to do that, Harry.” I offered. I’m sure there was plenty of juice in catering already, or even just a grocery store near the venue. There was no need to make such a fuss over fresh juice just for me. “It’s fine, Trix.” Harry waved me off, just as Preston appeared in the doorway. “Showtime Haz, let’s go.” Harry jumped out of his chair, ruffling Lux’ hair as he passed the toddler on his way out. “Bye girls, thanks for everything.” He called over his shoulder as he followed Preston towards the stage. As soon as his curls had disappeared out of sight, Lou turned towards the vanity to begin the cleanup process. With the exception of a few essential items that we would use for touchups throughout the show, she began to pack up the rest of the mess that had been left on the vanity in the wake of getting all of the boys ready. Each 1D member had their own clear plastic case for all of their unique products, neatly labelled with their names. Lou had this whole crazy circus act down to a fine routine by now and it was fascinating to watch her. Back at Bleach, I only ever had to focus on one client at a time, most customers coming in with similar requests for platinum hair and pastel colours. “Mummy, I’m all done.” Lux announced, putting the iPad down as the episode she had been watching ended. “I just need to pack up and then we can go get some dinner, alright?” Lux nodded at Lou and then handed me the iPad to put away into her small backpack full of toys she brought with her backstage. She was probably the most well behaved toddler for this crazy situation, but I guess this backstage rockstar life was all she had ever known. Placing Lux’ backpack down on the couch next to her, I stood up to help Lou clean up. Lux grabbed the bag and began to clean up her own mess, placing stuffed animals that she had with her on the couch into the bag as well. “That boys taken quite the liking to you already.” I couldn’t see Lux’ face, but just by her tone of voice I knew she had a wicked smirk. I grabbed the clear plastic makeup bag with Niall’s name scribbled onto it and began to zip it up as Lou placed the last few bottles into Harry’s bag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lou.” “Don’t play coy, Trixie.” “We were sat next to each other on the plane, so he just happens to be the guy I’ve gotten to know the most so far on this tour. I’m sure I’ll be close with all of them soon.” “But do you fancy him?” Lou zipped up the last bag, placing it back down onto the countertop. “It’s alright if you do, love.” I gave her the most stern look I could muster, trying to ignore the Cheshire cat grin sprayed across her face. “I’m just hear to work, Lou. That’s it.” “That didn’t answer the question.” She walked away from the vanity to pick Lux up from the couch. With her backpack on, the three of us were going to head down the hall to catering to grab dinner while the boys took the stage. “I mean, I’m sure if he likes you I’ll find out fast. That boy can’t keep a secret to save his life.” I rolled my eyes to brush off Lou’s comments. Harry was attractive, and from the limited interactions I had had with him, he was nothing but a sweetheart. He was also probably one of this most fit guys I had ever laid my eyes on, but he was an international pop star. Practically every girl on Earth fancied Harry Styles, so of course there was a bit of a crush there. But for Lou to insinuate that something was going on was just mad. In reality we barely knew each other and had only spent a couple days together. He had such a warm personality, I’m sure that he was this friendly and welcoming with everyone he met on these tours. There was no need to fuss over Harry and I. There was also no need for me to start overthinking. I had enough on my plate already. I wouldn’t even think of dating another guy until Jackson was finally out of my life, and I didn’t see that becoming a reality anytime soon. Harry and I were becoming friends. Just friends. “All I’m saying is don’t forget who invited you out on this tour when you’re sending out the wedding invites, babes.” Lou winked.

Chapter Five > Chapter Seven